


Lipstick

by DiurnalDays



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, F/F, Gen, High School, Homophobia, Love Confessions, Midwest United States, Minor Character(s), Misgendering, Multi, Slurs, Suburban Neighborhood, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Transphobia, Violence, deadnaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-22 04:33:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20868260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiurnalDays/pseuds/DiurnalDays
Summary: Sometimes, something as small as a tube of lipstick can mean so much.(Originally published in the 2019.1 usukustwiceperyear collection "Alice and Amelia")





	Lipstick

The first time Alice gave Alfred a stick of lipstick, they were meandering together along the main street in their little town as per the usual, occasionally punctuating their conversations with laughs and punches to the arm. A fall breeze swept between the worn buildings, rustling dried autumn leaves. 

Somewhere along the way, she looped her arm in his and led him to the convenience store to buy bottles of soda -- cherry for Alice, diet for Alfred. They cracked the caps open next to a stack of firewood out front and Alfred laughed easily when Alice’s bottle gushed cold bubbles all over her hand. 

Alice made sure to shove at his shoulder playfully for that slight. Still, her eyes twinkled mirthfully as she snatched a tissue from his wallet as repayment. 

“Wanna sit down in the park somewhere?” Alfred asked once he’d recapped his soda, giving Alice a glance. “Main Street can be a really tiring walk, you know. Maybe we should take a quick breather.” 

Alice huffed. She knew that her endurance was rather inferior because of her athletic ability -- or, rather, utter lack of it. Curse Alfred and his daily workouts.

“I suppose we should,” Alice agreed, and, despite the faint ache she felt in her legs, she stayed in step with Alfred as they started walking down the secluded dirt path behind the convenience store. 

As they walked side by side, leaves in shades of gold and bronze fluttered down from above, the path crunching underfoot. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, the sky darkened with fuzzy grey clouds overhead. The wind turned harsh and biting, whipping Alice’s locks across her face.

This year’s cold weather had arrived without warning, and while Alice usually wore enough for mild weather, she hadn’t expected today to grow quite so cold in the span of only a few hours. Curse middle America and its unpredictable wintry spells too.  
  
“Now don’t you go around thinking that you’re some chivalrous knight in shining armor,” Alice raised her eyebrow at Alfred before he could unwind his scarf to wrap around her shoulders. “I’m far from a damsel, Alfred.” 

Immediately, Alfred pouted and Alice regretted the little thump in her heart. 

“But I can still be your superhero, right?” Alfred asked, eyes soft. “Come on, let me save you from the evil Mr. Winter just this once, Ms. Alice ‘Strong and Independent Woman’ Kirkland. Pleeeeease?”

Though Alice _ did _ think of herself as strong and independent regardless of Alfred’s teasing, _ thank you very much _, she found that she couldn’t turn her nose up at his begging like she once could. She slowed down her pace so that Alfred could drape his scarf around her shoulders, crossing her arms petulantly so that he wouldn’t get the wrong idea. 

Still, she knew from Alfred’s devilish little smile that he knew exactly how utterly persuasive he could be. 

_ Alfred’s scarf smells like lint, _ Alice noted with displeasure as she and Alfred continued at their synchronized pace. _ Still, it’s quite warm. _

Soon, they reached the open grassy knolls of the town park and sat on the bench underneath the apple tree they’d climbed together as kids. The bench seat was still slightly moist from the previous night’s rain, so Alfred wiped it down with his hand before they sat down together. 

They set their lumpy backpacks down on the rusted dedication plaque in front of the bench and settled into their afternoon routine, Alfred crunching formulas on his calculator with a notebook and a creased textbook in his lap while Alice leafed through an old novel for English, utterly engrossed. A while later, Alice leaned her head on Alfred’s shoulder as she reached the end of the assigned chapter. Her cheeks pinked when she felt the warmth exuded by his skin. 

Though the sight of a teenage girl and a teenage boy in close proximity like this to each other was rather suspect, Alice thought of Alfred as nothing more and nothing less than her best friend. There was something easy about him, a sort of mutual trust and understanding they shared regardless of gender -- something she’d never found in any other guy. Even if she sometimes found him obtuse and irritating, they were each other’s companions for life. 

That’s what she thought at the time, anyway, or at least that’s how she’d explain her relationship with Alfred to her pink diary pages at night. 

Alice’s little reverie was interrupted by Alfred pulling away to ask her a question at arm’s length, casual and yet not. Her body chilled slightly despite the woolly scarf wrapped about her neck. 

“Hey, could I borrow your lipstick for a while?”

_ Huh? _Did she hear him right?

“I’ve watched a lot of YouTube makeup tutorials lately,” Alfred continued. He laughed casually, though Alice knew him well enough to sense some embarrassment in his voice. “And I thought that hey, since I hang out with you every afternoon like this, why not learn how to do a girl’s makeup?” 

Alice stared at him curiously. For all the time she’d known Alfred -- which was almost their entire lives by now -- she’d always seen him as a paragon of masculinity, what with his love for football, cars, Nerf guns and everything else perfectly American and _ male _. To see him suddenly interested in makeup baffled her, to say the least. 

Alfred seemed to read her thoughts before she could vocalize them. He clapped his hand against the back of the bench as if to slap away the tension. “Hahaha. No, don’t get the wrong idea. I’m totally just doing this so that I can be a better friend. I said I’d be your superhero, correct? And superheroes totally help others, just like I want to help you.” 

Judging by the muscle-bound wonderbread men on Alfred’s vintage comic book covers, Alice was pretty sure that superheroes didn’t typically do their gal pals’ lipstick for them. 

In the silence between them, Alfred’s confidence seemed to flag. 

“Just forget I even aske-” Alfred began before Alice yanked a tube of lipstick out of her handbag and shoved it into his hand. 

“It’s yours now,” Alice declared as Alfred’s eyes widened.“No take-backs. I’ll help you apply it tomorrow.” 

For a moment, Alfred met Alice’s sideways gaze, grasping onto the lipstick tube almost with reverence. At the moment, Alice didn’t find anything peculiar about his reaction, instead focusing on the grateful little smile that graced his lips.

“Thank you,” he murmured, uncharacteristically soft. 

“Don’t mention it,” Alice replied. “We’re friends.” 

* * *

From that day on, Alfred and Alice continued their daily routine of buying soft drinks and then studying together for the afternoon, although they studied in the cafe rather than the park once the weather dropped below freezing.

Still, sometimes Alfred would bring his little tube of lipstick with him in his backpack and gingerly apply it to her lips while Alice chided him for his sloppy technique. She’d wash the lipstick off afterwards to avoid having to answer questions about when and why she’d applied lipstick to her lips. 

Eventually, Alfred started bringing blush and mascara and eyeliner to their study sessions, and Alice still thought little of it. She’d teach Alfred how to use every new tool he brought, as she secretly enjoyed seeing Alfred bite his lip in concentration, and soon Alice would leave the cafe with a full face of delicately applied makeup. 

One day, she offhandedly remarked to Alfred that he should do her makeup for prom in senior year, and he beamed so brightly at that comment that Alice made a mental note to make good on her word.

* * *

Though Alice and Alfred were inseparable every afternoon, they shared few classes during the day, so Alice often found herself sitting alone at lunch unless Alfred happened to share a free period with her -- which, to her chagrin, was not often.

One day, she found herself poking at her undercooked broccoli and cheese and wondering if spending all of her time with a guy for a friend made her undesirable in some way. After all, the other girls at school never had guy friends -- they had _ boy _friends. Even the most seemingly self-empowered women were even more self-empowered if they had a cute guy tagging along by their side. But none of the guys she’d tried dating had worked out, so what did that say about her?

A high-pitched voice with a breathy lisp interrupted her thoughts. “Heeeeey, Alice.” 

“Hey, Feliks,” Alice muttered disinterestedly. She impaled a gunky chunk of broccoli on her plastic spork and shoved it into her mouth with a grimace of distaste.

Feliks slid onto the bench next to her, causing the table to sag slightly in his direction despite his slight weight. Though Alice’s gaze was resolutely trained on her styrofoam lunch tray and absolutely nothing else, she could easily imagine Feliks’s long blonde hair and sparkly hot pink feather boa wrapped about a thin, slender neck. 

“Sooooooo,” Feliks began, leaning his head against the sticky lunch table as if to find an open crevice between Alice’s nose and her lunch tray. “Alice, sis, where’s ya boy?” 

For a moment, Alice froze. 

Feliks barked out a sharp laugh. “Ha, JK! Gawd, you’re so stiff!” 

Alice could practically hear the sound of Feliks’s limp wrist flapping about. 

“Why are you talking to me?” Alice shot Feliks her best sideways glare, only to jump slightly in her seat when she saw a pair of cheap dollar-store glasses complete with a fuzzy mustache and eyebrows staring back at her.

“For obvious reasons!” Feliks said, grinning around his goofy glasses. “To invite you to my next speed dating partay!” 

“Speed dating?” 

“It’s real simple. So, ya see, all the girls sit at a table.” Feliks placed one hand palm-down on the table to illustrate.

“And then the guys are assigned cards and sit across from the girl with the matching card. It’s totally random.”

He placed a finger next to his hand.

“Ya see, this finger is the guy of your dreams. He’s gonna travel around the table talking to all the girls at the table for two minutes each. And if he and you hit it off, you can exchange numbers! How exciting is that?”

“Very exciting,” Alice said flatly, trying to contain her excitement. “When is it?”

“Next Wednesday, 7 PM at Toris’s place. Bring some girlfriends with ya, hun!”

With that, Feliks pranced off, leaving a trail of glitter and painted feathers in his wake. 

Alice pushed her tray to the side and sighed dreamily to herself. 

_ Maybe now I can be a normal girl _!

* * *

Alice was definitely not a normal girl. 

Normal girls gushed about boys. Normal girls made boys’ heads turn. Normal girls dated hunky dreamboats for years and years and sailed off into a perfect sunset as the school’s prom queen.

Normal girls didn’t date guys for a day each before uneventful break-ups.

As much as Alice tried to like each guy she met at Feliks’s speed dating parties, she found each and every one of them to repel her in one way or another. Each time she went out with a decent-looking guy, she’d find that his clothes stank, his breath smelled, or he put his hands in weird places. 

Eventually, the number of participants at Feliks’s speed dating parties dwindled after he had a falling-out with Ivan, the ice hockey player whose friend group supplied most of the guys at the parties, and Alice stopped attending once she realized that she’d already tried every single guy that Feliks could possibly hook her up with. 

As Alfred had football practice every Wednesday afternoon, she now found Wednesday nights rather boring and dull without the distraction of trying to kiss gross guys behind a bush. Instead, she’d check her social media feed and morosely stare at pictures of her attractive classmates going out in pairs for bowling or the movies. She’d head downstairs to eat dinner at six and listen to her mother talk about how at Alice’s age her grandma had already found a decent G.I. husband who’d whisked her away to the States for a fairytale ending in middle America and _ won’t you find a nice man like your grandfather was soon, dear? _.

And one day, Alice looked at Alfred as he tapped his pencil against his supple bottom lip while staring at a set of difficult math problems and wondered why no normal girls had fallen over themselves to date such a wonderful guy. 

“Hey, Alice,” Alfred said, snapping her out of her reverie. 

“Mm?” she grunted in response, slurping down the rest of her latte in a rather unladylike manner. 

“I’m done with my homework and I got my license the other day, so do you want to go to the mall together?” 

“Sure,” Alice said breathlessly, wiping her mouth on the back of her sleeve. Since when were Alfred’s eyes such a bright baby blue?

Alfred furrowed his brow. “You have something on your face, dude. Let me get that for you.” 

Before Alice could react, Alfred reached over and brushed his thumb along her cheek. 

“Alfred!” Alice exclaimed, batting his hand away with a laugh. “Aah, you cheeky bastard, that tickles!” 

Alfred grinned back at her. “You’re funny when you say British stuff like that. How much Doctor Who do you watch, again?”

Alice blushed. She twirled a strand of hair around her finger. 

“N-none of your business!” she said. “A-Anyway, don’t we have somewhere to be?”

“You’re right, you’re right.” Alfred stuffed his textbook haphazardly into his beat-up backpack and slung it over his shoulder in a smooth motion. In a flash, he pulled his keyring out from his pocket and spun it around his finger with a soft jingling noise as he waited for Alice to toss her plastic drink cup out and join him. 

As Alfred’s weathered sedan moved along the freeway towards the mall situated on the outskirts of their small town, Alice leaned against the car’s window frame and glanced at Alfred out of the corner of her eye. 

Alfred was humming an offbeat pop tune he’d probably heard on the radio and tapping his fingers against the dash while he occasionally pulled the wheel in one direction or another in order to change lanes. Something about his quiet confidence in driving his car made Alice wonder -- with a knot in her gut -- whether or not he had that same sort of confidence when seeking out one of the many admirers he surely had.

She didn’t like to think of herself as a jealous bitch from some soap opera, of course, but the thought of another girl seeing his radiant smile -- which had belonged to Alice only since childhood -- suddenly made her feel very alone in the world. 

But if Alfred looked this happy when he was with her as a friend, she would do anything to make her one and only best friend happy -- even if that meant eventually sharing Alfred’s heart with another girl. 

“We’re here,” Alfred said, killing the ignition and stepping out of the car with a cheerful bounce in his step. 

“Aren’t we on the wrong side of the mall?” Alice griped.

“What do you mean?” Alfred asked, looking over at her. 

“I meant that the arcade and the carousel ride are on the other side,” Alice clarified. “This is the side with the giant department stores. You missed the turn that would’ve led us to the areas you want to go to, stupid.” 

“Oh, I did? Haha.” Alfred laughed half-heartedly. “Well, I guess we can pick some stuff up for you while we’re here, then?” 

Alice paused at the waver in Alfred’s voice. Had she really made him upset? Maybe she was too harsh on him this time. 

“We can go get some soda afterwards, if you’d like that,” Alice suggested softly. 

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s cool, man.” Alfred’s gaze was downcast for a moment before he realized Alice was staring at him. When he did, he put on a smile which didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

Neither Alice or Alfred said another word as they approached the nearest department store entrance.

“Are you okay?” Alice finally asked as she held the door open for Alfred. 

“Never better,” Alfred replied quickly. He wet his lips. “So, where’s this Land o’ Femininity every woman seems to know the way to?” 

“Right this way, esteemed sir,” Alice said, making an exaggerated gesture towards the center of the well-lit store.

The makeup aisle was an island of backlit advertisements and clear plastic shelves plastered with images of sleek makeup bottles and contoured female faces. A bored-looking clerk perked up when she saw Alice and Alfred approaching. As soon as they passed by her booth, she launched herself out of her seat armed to the teeth with samples.

“Want to try this lipstick on, dear?” the clerk asked with her toothy smile. “Perhaps your boyfriend here would find it alluring on you!”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Alice grumbled, knowing how weak her complaint sounded. Still, never one to turn down free samples if she could, she plucked the tube out of the clerk’s hand.

The clerk laughed knowingly with a glance at Alfred’s face. “Sure thing, hun. Here, take a look at yourself.” 

Alice stared at her reflection in the hand mirror. She tapped a finger against the round, full curve of her lip.

“It looks nice,” Alice admitted. The clerk’s smile widened.

“Sit down here and I’ll pretty you up, dahling.” The clerk patted a stool next to a standing mirror. 

Alice gave Alfred a backwards glance and, seeing him give a thumbs-up and pull out his phone to distract himself with, obliged the clerk.

When the clerk was done, Alice gave her reflection a good once-over. The clerk was actually a decently competent make-up artist, much to her surprise. She’d enhanced Alice’s cheekbones and sharp nose to give her a more refined, mature look than she normally sported. The mascara applied to her eyelashes made her eyes almost as pretty as Alfred’s (curse his naturally good looks). 

“Thanks,” Alice said to the clerk, remembering her manners, and then walked over to where Alfred was intently studying a display of lipstick tubes neatly arranged in a gradient of color. 

“Having fun?” Alice asked dryly.

Alfred turned around to reply but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Alice’s face, mouth slightly agape.

“How do I look?” Alice blushed and glanced to the side at the feeling of Alfred’s gaze burning into her face.

“Uh...uhm. Really good,” Alfred blurted. “Are you buying any of it?”

Alice suddenly remembered that the tube of lipstick she’d used for the past few years was nearing its end, so she snatched a tube of lipstick that was the same color as the lipstick she was wearing from the rack. She also grabbed a few eyeshadow and blush palettes to replace the dirty, old ones in her makeup bag.

On the way to the cashier, Alice suddenly caught sight of a rack of floral blouses that she absolutely _ had _to try on. She pressed the tube of lipstick and the palettes into Alfred’s hands and dashed into the ladies’ fitting room like a woman with a mission -- or rather, as a woman with a mission. She emerged with a triumphant smile and several form-fitting blouses in various colors draped over her arms.

Though Alice expected Alfred to look tired by the time they reached the cashier -- as her mother once said all men at the mall eventually did --, Alfred still smiled widely at her when she gave him a glance. Oddly enough, he seemed happier now than when Alice had suggested they go to the arcade or the carousel, though Alice was sure that was just her imagination. 

Just as Alice opened her wallet to pull out the money she needed to pay for her new makeup, she cursed. She’d forgotten that she wouldn’t receive this month’s paycheck for another week, so she had only a few bucks stowed in her wallet at the moment. 

“I can cover it,” Alfred suggested cheerfully before Alice could even turn around. “No need to pay me back, of course. Your favorite American superhero can help you out in dire times of need!” 

“Now don’t you let your hero complex control you, young man,” Alice chided even as she let Alfred step in front of her and pull out his credit card. “Do you do this for every damsel in distress you see at the store?” 

“Nope!” Alfred chirped as he slid his card through the chip reader. “I’m supposed to be Alice Kirkland’s hero and hers only, right?”

Alice buried her face in her hands so that Alfred wouldn’t see the blush of embarrassment crawling up her face.

“I should really take you on more mall trips with me,” Alice said as she and Alfred wandered down the polished main hall of the mall. “You’re a real good sport when you’re carrying stuff for me.”

They walked to the nearest vending machine and bought the usual -- diet for Alfred, cherry for Alice. When they walked outside to crack their bottles open and take a sip, though, Alice noticed that Alfred looked quite overwhelmed trying to hold his bottle in the crook of one arm and the plastic bags of makeup in the other.

“I can carry those bags myself, knight in shining armor.” 

“Are you sure?” Alfred laughed awkwardly as Alice took the bags into her hand. “I could still, uh, help you carry these to the car…”

Alice raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to keep them?” 

She intended that comment as a joke, but Alfred’s silence was answer enough. 

Maybe Alfred was jealous that Alice would use that make-up to woo a special guy in her life...

_ No, _ Alice thought to herself. _ Alfred’s my best friend. No more, no less. He just wants my makeup so that he can practice applying it to me like he always does. And if it makes him happy... _

“Take the lipstick,” Alice said, trying to sound nonchalant even if her heart was racing in her chest. “I have enough at home. Maybe you could give it to a lucky girl in your life. Or something.” 

“I really appreciate it,” Alfred said sincerely. He took the bag from Alice’s outstretched hand and clutched it close to his chest. “Thank you so much, Alice.”

Even then, Alice didn’t think much of the act of giving Alfred lipstick. 

* * *

The first time Alice realized that she might be different, she was leafing through a swimsuit magazine on her own whim. She’d tried giving another guy a chance and promptly deserted him when he leaned in for a kiss and she smelled the stench of cigarette smoke on his skin. 

Sighing, she wondered why she couldn’t just forswear herself of the opposite sex and be done with it all. 

Of course, every time she considered that, she remembered that a guy named Alfred existed in the world. Even if her romantic pursuits all ended in disaster, Alfred was a reminder that maybe there would be a man worth sharing her heart with in a romantic way.

Seeking to escape from her woes, she wandered into a little newspaper shop and drifted from shelf to shelf idly -- that is, until she turned a corner and immediately saw a spinning rack of half-clad busty women staring back at her with half-lidded eyes. 

She immediately clapped a hand over her mouth, feeling rather perverse for stopping and turning the rack around with shaking fingers.

_ Whoever stacked the store this morning must not have known to keep the dirty articles out of sight _, she reasoned to herself. God forbid someone would see her furtively inspecting the swimsuit magazine backlogs like this. 

Somehow, that thought only compelled her to pull a magazine into the crook of her arm and flip through. 

Girls lounging on beaches. Girls with flat stomachs. Girls with round asses and even rounder boobs. Girls with swimsuits so skimpy they seemed to be eternally on the brink of slipping loose. Alice felt increasingly scandalized by each page’s contents, and yet her fingers flipped each and every page so that she could see more.

“Ma’am?” A voice called.

Alice stiffened. 

“Uh, ma’am, can I help you with anything?” 

The voice was right behind her.

She quickly spun around, throwing her hands up and waving them around. “No, nothing at all!” she squeaked. 

“If you say so, ma’am,” the gangly teenage sales associate replied with a raised brow. Alice realized, to her horror, that she was still holding the swimsuit magazine in her hand and had just waved a two-page spread of a bikini model at him. 

“I can, uh, explain!” Alice sputtered, feeling blood rising fast in her face. 

The eyebrow climbed higher. 

“Actually, I have somewhere to be! Uh, goodbye!” Alice shoved the magazine into the rack from whence it came and bolted out the door in a flash. 

* * *

The first thing Alice did when she arrived home was run up to her room and bury her face in the throw pillows stacked on her bed.

“Oh my god,” she said aloud, voice muffled by a mouthful of fluff. “Do I like… _ girls _?” 

She closed her eyes. The swimsuit models in that sinful little magazine appeared against the darkness of her eyelids. Her chest filled with warmth. She tried replacing the female swimsuit models with male underwear models and felt the warmth in her chest subside.

“Oh my god.” 

Alice knew she had to find answers, and fast. So she reached to her nightstand and pulled out her laptop. 

Her laptop was passed down to her by her father once he’d saved up enough money for a new model, so it had certainly seen better days. Still, she cleaned it once a week and occasionally added new stickers to its cover, so all things considered it was a rather serviceable laptop.

Though normally she didn’t use the laptop for much else besides homework thanks to her house’s spotty internet connection, today she sought answers that she was too embarrassed to seek at the local library.

She typed into the search engine: _ Is it gay to look at boobs _

The results yielded several clickbait-y YouTube challenges and several forum threads. Alice clicked through.

Over the course of the next few hours, Alice typed several more queries into the search engine. 

_ How do I know if I’m gay _

_ Is it normal for women to like boobs _

_ Am I gay _

_ Am I a lesbian _

All sorts of different websites appeared in response to her searches. She read through all of them. LGBT resource websites, forum threads, Wikipedia articles, the works. Before long, the sun had already set over the horizon and her mother was calling her downstairs for a take-out Chinese dinner.

As Alice chewed on her Moo Goo Gai Pan and orange chicken, she mulled over what she’d found out that day. 

Before, Alice had only heard of lesbians through youth church group sermons warning against the dangers of sexual deviance and through the crude jokes her male classmates would make about girls who’d rejected them. For her entire life, the only type of love she’d seen was between a man and a woman who sometimes didn’t have sex before marriage and sometimes did. 

And yet, now that she realized that this other world was closer than she realized, she felt drawn in by its allure.

Maybe she was a lesbian, then. That could explain why she’d never found love with any boys -- or found any of them that physically appealing, really. She’d only felt comfortable around one guy -- Alfred -- and that was because they were just best friends. Reading lesbian self-discovery stories had awakened something inside of her that screamed, _ “Yes! That’s me!” _. 

“Stop staring at your food like it’s about to sing the Lord’s gospel and eat,” her mother grumbled while loudly smacking her lips. 

“Listen to your mother,” her father added for redundancy. 

“Sorry,” Alice replied. She shoved a head of steamed broccoli into her mouth.

* * *

The next time Feliks sat down next to Alice at the lunch table to yap on and on about something or the other, he was wearing a bright pink shirt emblazoned with the letters _ GSA _.

“What’s your shirt say?” Alice asked, surprised to see Feliks wearing a shirt without any flamboyant adornment on it.

“Oh, this?” Feliks pulled the hem of his shirt down so that Alice could get a better look. “The letters stand for Gay-Straight-Alliance! It’s the new club I founded, uh, yesterday and it’s meeting this Wednesday in room 245!”  
  
Alice had seen a few mentions of LGBT clubs in her nightly research now that she’d defined herself as Most Likely A Lesbian. LGBT clubs had seemed to be something only schools in less redneck states had, but she wasn’t too surprised that her school now had one if camp gay Feliks had started it.

“Can I join?” Alice asked.

“Girl, yes!” Feliks exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “Btdubs, you don’t need to be gay or bi to join us. You just need to be accepting of others, yanno?”

“I think I’m a lesbian,” Alice blurted out, immediately regretting how uncertain she sounded. 

Whatever response she’d been expecting, she had not expected Feliks to pull her into a bear hug with no warning. 

“Oh em gee, really?” Feliks cried, voice growing even more high-pitched than usual. He pulled away when he saw Alice’s startled face. “Oh, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. You good?” 

“Y-yeah,” Alice managed, brushing dust off of her sleeve. “Sorry. Wasn’t expecting that.”

Feliks looked like he was about to say something when the bell rang. Alice quickly gathered up her messy lunch tray and hoisted her backpack over her shoulders. 

  
“See ya there, sister!” Feliks called after her.

* * *

GSA, as it turned out, consisted of just Felik’s close friends, Alice, and a few frumpy-looking girls she didn’t know or recognize. Still, they numbered enough to count as a club, so Feliks placed several chairs in a circle for the club to sit in as Mr. Mallory -- the club sponsor -- placed a box of cookies and a row of plastic water bottles on a desk nearby and then buried his nose in a stack of ungraded assignments. 

“Let’s get to know each other first,” Feliks announced when everyone was seated. “Just say your preferred name, your pronouns, and anything else you’d like everyone else to know. Julie, you start.”

“Hi, I’m Julie,” Frumpy Girl #1 said, raising a chubby hand in the air. “She/her/hers. I really like cats!” 

“I’m Natalie,” Frumpy Girl #2 said. “She/her/hers as well. I like knitting and dogs.” 

Feliks nodded encouragingly. “Great, great.” 

“I’m Toris,” a rather average-looking brown-haired guy said. “He/him. I really enjoy gardening and cleaning my room. Also, I’m here as a straight ally to support my friend Feliks.”

“I’m Eduard,” the noticeably short guy next to Toris said. “He/him as well. And ditto.” 

All eyes turned to Alice. She nervously played with her pigtails. “Hello, I’m Alice. She/her, though that’s probably obvious judging by my appearance. And I really like long walks and reading books.” 

“Alright!” Feliks said. “I’m Feliks -- hello everyone -- and I use he/him/his pronouns, and I absolutely looooove fashion. So today’s gonna be more of a casual get-to-know-each-other kinda day, so just make yourself at home. We’ll meet at the same time every Wednesday for different activities and discussions discussing gay issues, straight allyship, and representation at our school, so be sure to stop by whenever you can!” 

A few minutes later, Alice was grabbing herself a cookie and a bottle of water when Feliks sauntered up to her with a slight smile on his face. 

“I’m really glad you’re here, Alice,” he said softly, pausing by the snack desk without taking a cookie for himself. “Everyone’s on a journey, and if that journey means that I’m gay and you’re a lesbian, then that means that we were meant to follow a different road from others, you know?”

“Yeah,” Alice said, not knowing what else to say. She’d seen similar quotes on LGBT websites and blogs before, but at that moment she didn’t quite know what those words truly meant.

* * *

From that point on, Feliks stopped by Alice’s lunch table every day, whether to sit and chat, offer her food or candy in exchange for her carton of milk, or simply say hi before the bell rang. Over time, Alice grew less and less irritated by his lisp and antics and began to find his presence almost endearing. Occasionally he’d spout deep stuff like what he’d said to her on the first day of GSA and she’d nod and smile neutrally, not really sure what to say in response. 

Over time, she began looking forward to GSA every Wednesday. Spending time chatting with Feliks, Toris, Eduard, and the frumpy girls over snacks and drinks was far better in her book than kissing gross guys to make herself feel normal or aimlessly scrolling through social media. Of course, GSA still didn’t quite compare to reading a good novel or spending time with Alfred, but she still found herself returning to room 245 every week.

However, after a few mean-looking ice hockey jocks in the hallway glared at Feliks and Eduard as they entered the club room at the same time one day, Alice decided to change her route up every week just in case someone was tailing her. 

On what seemed to be a rather uneventful day, Alice sat at her usual table with a tray full of overcooked spinach and several half-frozen chicken nuggets. She placed her milk carton next to her tray, fully expecting Feliks to come by and drop her a few taffies in exchange, but he didn’t come. By the time the bell rang, she glanced around the lunch room several times in search of him -- but there were no pink shirts or sassy walks in sight. A shiver crawled up her spine. 

She shoved her food into her mouth and hastily made her way out of the lunchroom after she wiped her face with a napkin and tossed her tray into the trash.

Without realizing, she immediately found her way towards the GSA room, though she took the direct route she originally took before the jocks started showing up. She slowed to a halt when she neared her destination.

A crowd had gathered around the scene and a few people were holding their phones up, presumably to record whatever was happening in the middle. There were no teachers in sight. Alice felt sick to her stomach.

And then she heard it. 

“Disgusting faggot!”

“You better remember this next time you kiss your disgusting tranny lips towards our bro!”

All of a sudden, Alice was torn between freezing in place or running forward to stop what was happening, do something, anything, just so that she wouldn’t have to live with this reality anymore. Reading about hate crimes and gay camps through the safety of an incognito tab didn’t compare to seeing Feliks laying on the ground as three ice hockey jocks pinned him down and punched him while he barely even fought back.

Where were the teachers? Where was Mr. Mallory, the so-called advisor of GSA? Where was the solidarity that Feliks talked about during every meeting? 

When Alice looked around at the kids gathered watching the spectacle, to her they all may as well have kneeled next to the jocks and thrown some punches at Feliks themselves -- though what else could be done about the jocks, anyway? It wasn’t as if Alice could peel them off Feliks herself with her bony arms. 

All she could do was watch.

The bell rang. The jocks stood up, sneering and spitting on Feliks as they shuffled off to their next class.

The crowd dispersed. Eduard and Toris suddenly rushed forth as if they’d just peeled themselves out of the walls. Toris pulled Feliks up by his armpits and slung his bloodied arm over his shoulder while Eduard stood in front of him.

“We told you,” Eduard said, face stony. “We told you that you’d be a target if you acted the way you did. And now look what happened.” 

Feliks coughed up a wad of blood into the tissue Toris held over his mouth. “I felt like this would happen at some point,” he weakly admitted, voice unusually low. “But I just wanted to be myself, and I wanted my friends to be themselves as well. Even if I hadn’t reached out and tried to help some other gay kids like me, this probably would’ve happened anyway. That’s how life is here.” 

Eduard balled his hand into a fist. “No matter what, we don’t want to see you hurt. You’re our friend. Why would you do this to yourself?” He marched closer. “Why did you think that acting like you’re on Queer Eye or creating a fucking gay club wouldn’t get you in trouble?” 

“Eduard!” Toris cried. “Stop! Just help him, please!”  
  


Alice couldn’t listen any longer. She slipped into another hallway and walked until she was outside and staring out at the cornfields surrounding the school, the wind blowing through her locks.

Something about the fight she’d just witnessed was surreal, as if she’d witnessed it through a glass pane. Though she was perfectly aware that her school wasn’t exactly a beacon of inclusivity and diversity, what with being surrounded by large corn farms and pickups sporting large American flags flapping in the wind, nothing about the undercurrent of blue-collar American Christian culture in her town had ever directly threatened her. It was as normal as a cornflower-blue sky or a lake full of fish. 

And yet now, she had to acknowledge for the first time in her life that maybe, just maybe, the quintessential American image of a heterosexual family with kids and a dog or the town preacher singing the praises of God-blessed marriage between a man and a woman every Sunday weren’t quite as benign as she’d first thought.

If those thoughts and sayings were what led to Feliks’s face being covered with blood, one way or another; Alice didn’t want anything to do with it once she could jump into a car of her own and drive onto the open road and leave this all behind.

She slipped into her next class with a hollow excuse of just coming back from the nurse’s office and went about the rest of her day afterwards.

* * *

The next day, Alice still felt as if she were wandering through an unpleasant dream when she turned a corner and passed by the nurse’s office just as someone pushed the door open with their head down.

Feliks turned.

And the blue eye that wasn’t covered by gauze bore into Alice’s soul from under a mat of blonde hair.

After that, she never spoke to Feliks again and Feliks didn’t reach out to her. Whether that was an effort on her part or both of their parts to protect her from association with the “gay” kid, she didn’t know. 

Still, she knew that there was something deep in the look he gave her. Maybe he recognized that fear blooming deep in her gut, saw it mirrored in himself as he limped away down the hallway without Eduard or Toris to support him.

The “incident”, as it was called, was briefly mentioned in the principal's newsletter as an inconsequential fight as a result of which Feliks was suspended for a week for, while the jocks who’d beat him up received, apparently, a “stern reprimand” from the principal.

Alice wouldn’t have been all that surprised if the “stern reprimand” consisted of a slap on the back and free tickets to the school’s next football game.

She ate lunch in silence every day and stopped attending GSA meetings. When GSA disappeared from the club roster at the beginning of the next school year, she didn’t say anything. When her parents titted and tutted at the dinner table about how liberals were ruining the country, she shoved food into her mouth. She ducked her head and walked by as she heard kids in the hallway not-so-quietly call Feliks a transvestite and a fag and then laugh.

She didn’t say anything about the incident to Alfred, either. Instead, she pretended she was the same person she was at the beginning of the school year, looking away or giving vague answers when Alfred’s brow furrowed with concern and he asked her what was wrong, what had changed, was there anything he could do about it, et cetera. 

As much as keeping secrets from Alfred tore her up on the inside, Alice told herself that things were better off if she didn’t have to see how Alfred would react if she told him what exactly was wrong and why she’d changed and maybe open up a nasty can of worms in the process.

Whether her reticence was really for Alfred’s sake or her own, Alice didn’t know.

* * *

Midway through junior year, Alfred began wearing girls’ accessories in his hair. Alice only noticed this one day when she was sifting through his gym clothes after football practice. 

Alice wasn’t sure when she’d picked up the habit of folding Alfred’s clothes or adjusting his collars for him, but at this point she was so used to the routine that she habitually found herself rummaging through his duffel bag right before they left the school and drove down to the cafe to hang out. She’d always nagged him about being less of a slob and looking after himself for once, but every time she’d scowl at him, Alfred would strike a warm smile and Alice would find it within herself to forgive him just this once, the damn charmer.

As Alfred was a man of habit, Alice was familiar with the rotating assortment of gym clothes, earbuds, and half-eaten granola bars resting haphazardly within his duffel bag’s zipper compartments. So she was surprised when her hand brushed against what seemed to be a bag of hair clips from Claire’s and a rolled-up ball of hair ties and scrunchies.

“What’s this for?” Alice asked, holding up a polka-dotted scrunchie. 

“Oh, nothing much. Just tying my hair back so that it doesn’t flop in my face when it’s all sweaty,” Alfred said nonchalantly. “Hey, did you want mint chocolate chip or strawberry for your second scoop?”

Alice narrowed her eyes, not too fond of Alfred changing the subject. “Do you even know what these are?”

Alfred stiffened, and that was when Alice knew she’d gone too far. 

Maybe she’d been too harsh on him again. Where before they worked together like a pair of well-oiled gears, now there seemed to be edges and dents as time slowly pulled them apart. Moments like this reminded Alice that much had changed since she’d first met Alfred on that playground ten-some years ago.

“I’m sorry,” Alice said, trying her best to not sound half-hearted in her apology. “Mint chocolate chip, please and thank you.”

“Always polite as usual,” Alfred laughed.

Alice flinched. She wasn’t sure whether or not that comment was meant as a direct jab against her.

She didn’t ask about it and let Alfred carry the conversation towards homework assignments and the latest drama going down in the football team.

"Do you want me to do your makeup for you again today?" Alfred ventured after a while, guarded. 

Alice grunted noncommittally, and she carefully observed how Alfred bit his lip in concentration when he tried to apply her lipstick just right.

* * *

Alice thought that the aroma of a girls’ bathroom could be best summarized as a thin mist of piss, sweat, and, on some occasions, weed. Of course, she’d never seen anyone smoking weed in a bathroom before, but one didn’t exactly need a dogs’ nose in order to figure out what went on in there after hours. 

However, pissing, smoking, and fucking weren’t the only private affairs that went down within the confines of the girls’ bathroom. 

On one slow afternoon, Alice was fixing up her pigtails in the grungy bathroom mirror when two “popular” girls sauntered into the bathroom giggling to each other. 

“Did you hear… Mhm… Yeah, him! I know, right?”

Alice didn’t even need to look over at them to know that they were switching between mutters and whispers in order to hide who they were talking about now that they were in the vicinity of a “nerd”. She was about to tune them out when one comment sent a chill down her spine.

“Alfred Jones, the jock? He’s done for after that! No way Coach is letting him back on the team.” 

She froze and slowly looked up at the mirror. The two popular girls were staring at her with devious smirks. 

They definitely knew who Alfred was to her. There was no way that wasn’t deliberate. 

“Gosh, to think that he’s in the nurses’ office now…”

Alice didn’t need to hear any more. She burst through the bathroom door and sped down the hallway towards the nurses’ office, not caring if passersby wondered what a girl was doing rushing down the hallway midway through fifth period. 

Something had happened, that much was clear. 

She threw the door open and frantically glanced around to see if she could find Alfred anywhere. The wrinkled old nurse marched up to her with an unspoken question in her narrowed eyes.

“Where’s Alfred? I need to see him,” Alice said, panting heavily. 

“You should be in class right now, young lady,” the nurse said with a scowl. “Do you have a pass?”

“No, I don’t. But--!”

“Just let her talk to me,” Alfred’s voice called from behind a curtain. He sounded oddly sedate, maybe even resigned. “We’ll make it quick.” 

The nurse shot Alice an icy glare, but she moved to the side to let Alice in. “Get back to class as soon as possible, young lady.”

Alice ran around the privacy curtain to see that Alfred was lying uncomfortably on a cot with gauze wrapped around his arm and an ice pack sitting on top. She sat in the visitors’ chair and tried to even out her breaths. 

“What happened?” Alice asked, surprised by how steady her voice sounded.

Alfred pursed his lips. His gaze grew withdrawn. “Nothing much.”

“Nothing much?” Alice felt her body grow cold.

“Just a fight. S’all.” 

“That’s all? Really?” Alice balled her hands in the thin sheets draped over the cot. 

Alfred looked away.

“Just dumb football stuff. You know the drill.”

Alice certainly did, but fights between football team players tended to be about cheating girlfriends or stolen phones -- and Alice was pretty sure that Alfred would’ve already told her what was going on if those were the issues at hand here. She knew that Alfred was an upstanding guy who always wanted to tell Alice the hero’s side of the story -- or, at least, so she had thought.

“So, do you want to watch some football together later?” Again with the misdirection. “I’d rather go to your house if that’s okay with you. I don’t really want to talk to Mom or Dad right now. Besides, it’s been a while.” Alfred tried to reach up to elbow her gently before belatedly remembering the ice pack sitting on his forearm. Alice caught it with her hand -- but not before the bag burst and spilled its melted contents all over the linoleum floor.

Before she knew it, the old crone of a school nurse had marched into the curtained-off room with her arms crossed and her face sporting at least ten new wrinkles. 

“You two better not be fooling around in here!” the nurse barked. “Young lady, I say you leave this young man alone and head back to class right this instant.” 

“Alright, alright,” Alice said, holding her dripping wet hands up placatingly. “See you then,” she then said to Alfred. “This time, I’m picking the movie.” 

The nurse’s glare at Alice from the corner of her eye was almost as cold as the ice-water dripping from Alice's hand.

* * *

Alice knew that Alfred had arrived when her dad rose from his armchair to answer the doorbell and beamed widely as soon as the door cracked open.

"Glad to see you again, champ!" Alice's dad guffawed as he gave Alfred a friendly smack on the back. "Here to spend some time with Alice?" 

"Good to see you too, Mr. Kirkland," Alfred said, looking rather sheepish next to a middle-aged man six inches shorter than him. 

"The basement is all yours, buddy." Alice's dad raised his characteristic bushy eyebrows at Alfred. "Do remember that I have your parents on speed dial if you try to get up to any funny business with my daughter." 

"Dad!" Alice whined. 

Alice's dad turned around as if he'd only just remembered that his daughter was standing a few feet behind him. "Don't worry about it. Your friend and I are just having a man-to-man chat here." 

"Ha ha," Alfred laughed awkwardly.

Though usually Alfred returned Mr. Kirkland's oddly energetic teasing with equal gusto, today he was obviously subdued. His normally radiant smiles didn't reach his eyes or dimple his cheeks, and he shot Alice a quick look as if he were feeling overwhelmed. 

"Ready for movie night?" Alice asked, smoothly looping her hand around Alfred's good arm. "There's popcorn and Capri-Sun downstairs already, courtesy of Mum. I do hope you're as excited for binge-watching Downton Abbey and Sherlock tonight as I am." 

"Lucky me," Alfred said with false enthusiasm, yet all too eager to peel himself away from Alice's dad's too-familiar pats on the back.

"See you later, son," Alice's dad said with a wide grin and one last firm back-slap. 

The wooden steps of the basement staircase creaked under Alice's feet as she took the first few steps down. The mechanical systems warming the Kirkland home growled deep in its belly nearby as Alfred closed the basement staircase door behind him.

"Why didn't your dad notice anything different?" Alfred asked as he followed Alice down the stairs.

"Oh, don't worry about it. Next time you come over, he'll ask where your hard-won wounds of battle went off to." 

Though Alice had expected Alfred to laugh or at least chuckle, he remained oddly silent as they trudged their way down the last few wooden stairs. Alice flipped a switch, and suddenly the downstairs minibar and entertainment center were illuminated by a warm lightbulb dangling from a wooden beam.

"Are we actually watching Downton Abbey tonight?" Alfred all but groaned once he seated himself on the least lumpy side of the couch.

Alice narrowed her eyes at his brazen claim and plopped herself down next to him to jostle for the best spot. After a minute of elbowing and butt-bumping, Alice conceded with a sigh and instead grabbed a Capri-Sun pouch off the coffee table to throw in Alfred's general direction. 

"No, that was just to free you from my dad's ironclad embrace. We're watching old VHS tapes of broadcast football games tonight. If you have any complaints, speak now or forever hold your silence."

"Since when would you give up a chance to show me some of your favorite Brit shows?" Alfred wondered aloud as Alice crawled to the TV stand and fiddled with the dusty VHS player tucked underneath.

"I do hope you didn't forget that you said you wanted to watch football at my house earlier today," Alice drawled. "Sometimes you seem to forget that I'm your friend, Alfred. If showing you football games from the 80s helps you when times are tough, then I can sacrifice one night of Downton Abbey for that."

"That's one of the nicest things you've said to me, like, ever."

Alice rolled her eyes. "Since when am I not nice?" 

The TV crackled to life when Alice finally connected the right wires to each other. "Is this really a movie night, though?" Alfred asked around a mouthful of popcorn. "Doesn't seem like we're watching any movies." 

"Home video. Movie. Same difference," Alice waved her hand in the air. "Unless you want to watch something else…?"

"No!" Alfred said, a little too forceful. "No," he repeated, a little softer this time. "I'm down." 

A washed-out aerial video of football players rushing across a green field spread across the screen. Alice sat back down on the lumpy side of the couch and watched Alfred lean forward out of the corner of her eye. Even if she didn’t personally find football all that interesting, only going to the school football games and tailgates to cheer Alfred on, the shine in Alfred’s eyes made her wonder if she should study football so that she could better connect with Alfred over something that made him so excited.

The crowd cheered, a dull roar. Alice could see the tension dropping from Alfred’s shoulders. She sucked on her Capri-Sun straw until the dregs of juice at the bottom gurgled. 

As the warmth of Alice’s house’s first floor faded from her bones, she found herself shivering in the cold air of the unheated basement. Without saying a word, she got up to plug in the dingy space heater and grab a throw blanket from behind the minibar.

When she returned, Alfred’s good arm was thrown against the back cushion, an invitation. Feeling a flush rise in her cheeks for no apparent reason, she scooted up to Alfred’s side and leaned against his pillowy bicep as he adjusted the fluffy throw with his free hand. 

“You’re so hot,” Alice breathed. Alfred shot her a look. 

“I-- I didn’t mean it that way, you buffoon!” Alice playfully punched Alfred’s side. “You’re just, uh, soft and full of warmth. Yes, that’s it. Like a giant teddy bear.”

“Like the ones from Costco?” Alfred chuckled.

“Yeah, like those. Some of them even look like you.” 

Alfred snorted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means what it means,” Alice replied.

The look in Alfred’s eyes quickly became distant. Alice wondered, for at least the third time that week, if she’d done something to upset him, but she decided not to push the issue.

The VHS was playing what looked like another football game to Alice when Alfred suddenly leaned against her. Alice would’ve thought that he’d fallen asleep if she hadn’t seen the wet shine of Alfred’s eyes when she looked up.

“I think that Ludwig would’ve really loved this play,” Alfred mused. His voice sounded strangely distant, almost as if he were reading from an old diary entry. “He always got really excited when stuff like this happened during the games the team would watch after practice. When you see a real rock of a guy like him, you start to read the emotions on the face almost like they’re written on a page, you know.”

Alice blushed at the feeling of Alfred’s pressed cheek against her shoulder. Sure, she was no stranger to physical proximity with Alfred, but something about almost-cuddling on the couch like this felt very warm -- intimate, even.

“I’m dropping out of the football team,” Alfred said, voice low. “I don’t think they want me there anymore, anyway.”

Alice almost placed her hand on Alfred’s but held herself back at the last possible moment. She didn’t want to think about where these new thoughts and urges were coming from. “Why? Don’t you love football?”

“I do,” Alfred paused to wet his lips. Alice watched him flick his tongue over his soft lower lip and tried not to think too hard about why she was staring in the first place. “But I guess not everything can work out in real life.” 

The moment ended when a band-aid fell off of Alfred’s face and he tried to re-apply it, cursing under his breath. Alice got up to grab some hydrogen peroxide and a box of band-aids from the basement bathroom, and by the time she was done fixing up Alfred’s gauze and band-aids, the bubble of warmth beneath the throw blanket had already faded.

Not wanting the night to end, Alice refused to check her phone and instead focused on warming the throw blanket with her and Alfred’s shared body heat -- at least until her mother opened the basement door with a loud creak, at which point Alice grabbed the remote control to switch off the TV, threw the throw blanket off, and swept the half-eaten popcorn and used Capri-Sun pouches into her arms. 

“Time to go already?” Alfred grumbled. He did a few quick arm stretches before bounding forward off the couch. “Too bad we’re not in fourth grade anymore.”

Alice raised an eyebrow. “I sincerely doubt that my parents would ever let me sleep over with you without at least ten other friends participating, fourth grade or not.”

“Ha ha, yeah.” Alfred sheepishly rubbed a spot on his neck. “I guess not.”

“How was Downton Abbey, sweetheart?” Mrs. Kirkland cooed when Alice and Alfred reached the top of the stairs. “My dear Alice seems to be convinced that she’s a British citizen ever since she met her great-grandfather three years ago. I do hope that she didn’t bore you too much.” 

Alice looked away from her mother’s pointed stare.

“No, actually, it was pretty fun!” Alfred said. “Kinda old-timey, sure, but anything Alice likes is something I’ll like too.” 

Alice wondered why Alfred didn’t mention that they’d watched old football games on VHS together instead, but then again she felt as if that moment they’d spent together was weirdly intimate to tell her mom about. Maybe Alfred felt the same way. 

“How delightful! We’re always glad to have you here,” Alice’s mom said, clasping her hands together and stretching her face in her best approximation of a motherly smile. “It’s getting quite late now, though. Do you need a ride home?”

"Oh, I'm good, Mrs. Kirkland. I drove here in Mattie’s car. Thanks for the offer, though."

“Can I see Alfred off?” Alice asked, layering a little bit of childish whine in her voice. 

"Yes, but don’t you dare jump in his car after him. No detours allowed, young lady," her mom said, wagging her finger. Alice pouted -- did her parents really still remember that one time she did just that? "You have school tomorrow, and no boy is worth sleeping late on a school night for -- Alfred included." 

“Could you please take this stuff to the kitchen, then?” Alice said, holding out the popcorn bowl and Capri-Sun pouches in her arms. “I don’t want to make Alfred wait if he needs to go home.”

“Yes, alright,” Alice’s mom said with another sort-of-motherly smile, taking the load into her arms. “Don’t forget to lock the door once you’re done, sweetie!” 

“Alright, mum.” 

Alice led Alfred to the door as her mother’s soft footsteps faded in the other direction. The chill of a fall night flowed into the foyer when Alice opened the door for Alfred after he’d toed into his Converse sneakers. 

“Do you need a jacket?” Alice asked, noting Alfred’s bare arms and his thin t-shirt. “I can lend you one of my dad’s if you want.”

“Nah, I’m good,” Alfred responded with a smile. “I’m glad you offered, though.”

There was a somewhat awkward pause as Alfred stood on the steps outside and Alice stood just behind the threshold of her house, facing Alfred and feeling as if something had changed between them which she couldn’t quite put her finger on. 

“Your parents sure do like me,” Alfred said, as if he hadn’t known this to be a fact ever since he’d first trudged through Alice’s front door with muddy shoes and her neat-freak parents had just smiled and laughed it off. 

Alice laughed shortly. "I'm sure my parents would adopt you as their son if they could." 

Another awkward silence. Alfred shuffled his feet around, looking as if he had something to say and yet not saying it.

“Do you want to hang out tomorrow night?” Alice blurted. “Uh… Since you don’t have football practice anymore and all.” 

Alfred perked up, a warm flush in his cheeks. “I’d be happy to! You can come over to my house this time. We can eat chips on my bed and drink soda and do homework together.”

Alice giggled. “That sounds just like a sleepover to me, truth be told.”

“It’s a sleepover without sleeping. It’s an…” Alfred cocked his head to one side. “Uh, an -over.” 

“An ‘over’, you say. Fascinating,” Alice drawled. She glanced over her shoulder to see her mother lingering near the living room door. “Well, it seems that our time is drawing to a close. Anything else you want to say to me, Alfred?”

Alfred licked his lips in thought, then smiled. “Just that I had a lot of fun tonight. See you tomorrow, Alice.” 

He pulled Alice in for a one-armed embrace and she obliged.

“Thank you,” he whispered into her ear. Despite herself, she shivered slightly.

“I’m always glad to help,” she replied in a burst of honesty. “Get well soon.”

Alfred pulled away reluctantly, and then he bounded down the stairs to the driveway where his beat-up sedan was parked. Alice waved to him as he switched on the headlights and pulled out, and he waved back.

Then, he was nothing but a set of yellow lights fading into the night, and Alice closed the door behind her to keep the cold air out.

* * *

Apparently, sharing a blanket between herself and Alfred and closing the door behind her wasn’t enough to protect her from catching a cold. Unfortunately, the cold wasn’t bad enough for her to stay in bed and avoid school, but she found herself wishing it was every time she had to walk to the front of the class and blow her nose as thirty other kids glanced up to see where the undignified honking was coming from.

Needless to say, by the end of the day Alice was pretty sure Alfred would laugh and crack a joke about how she was Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer as soon as he saw the state of her nose.

But when she called Alfred’s cell to ask where he would pick her up from, there was no answer. She called a few more times, and when each call bounced to voicemail she decided that Alfred had probably accidentally left his phone off. So she left him a text saying that she would be at his house in fifteen minutes and took his bus route to his house instead.

When she arrived, however, it was Alfred’s twin brother Matthew who answered the door. 

“Oh, hey Alice,” Matthew said, opening the door wide enough to let her in. “Glad to see you again.”

Alice stepped over the threshold and pulled her shoes off as Matthew shut the door behind her. “Where’s Alfred?”

Matthew let out a long-suffering sigh, as if the question was a common one, and for a moment Alice felt bad for him. “Mom sent him to the store for eggs and milk. Go ahead and make yourself at home, I’m sure he’ll be back soon. I’ll be watching hockey games for the next hour or so. Just holler if you need me, I suppose.” 

And with that, Matthew trudged back to the couch and plopped himself down on it, effectively ending the conversation. 

Alice bounded her way up Alfred’s carpeted stairs -- there were thirteen, she’d counted all of them several years ago -- and shrugged her backpack off at the foot of Alfred’s bed. 

Though Alfred’s bedroom had pretty much been her second bedroom whenever they had playdates as children, she’d visited less and less as they grew older and various obligations pulled them apart. They’d decided to go to the park and the cafe to hang out instead of Alfred’s house once his parents told him that he’d have to pay for his own gas and transportation -- and it was cheaper for Alfred to park at school, walk with Alice to the town center after school, walk back to the school parking lot in the late afternoon, and drop her off at her house along the way to his. 

As a result, Alice didn’t recognize most of the posters taped haphazardly to his walls or the new model kits he’d assembled in his free time. She recognized all of the medals and trophies carefully displayed on his shelf, however, and she could still see the dent in the wall from where Alfred had thrown a basketball against it in fourth grade. The warm feeling of familiarity settled over her like a coating of down fluff, or perhaps like a fluffy throw blanket. 

Alice was about to get comfortable sitting cross-legged on Alfred’s galaxy-themed bedspread when she felt snot dripping from her nose.

“Oh no,” Alice groaned. She leaned her head back and covered her nostrils with her hand, looking from side to side in search of tissue box -- and finding nothing in sight, not even any used napkins in the empty pizza box sitting on Alfred’s dresser (gross, but sometimes a girl had to make do). 

“Ugh, where does he keep all of his tissue boxes? This is ridiculous,” Alice fumed. “Utterly ridiculous.” 

She dashed out the door and into the nearest bathroom -- the one Alfred and Matthew technically shared, but which she knew Matthew rarely, if ever, actually used. 

Alfred being a slob, of course, meant that the toilet paper holder next to the toilet was completely empty.

“Come on, come on, come on--” Alice grumbled as she threw cabinet doors open and rummaged around in them with her hand for anything she could wipe her nose with.

She went from top to bottom through several of Alfred’s cabinets like this, slowly losing hope along the way. At this rate, she’d have to run down the staircase and ask Matthew for a tissue while looking like an absolute fool with her hand clasped around her nose like an overgrown beak.

“Does he never get sick? Does he wipe his nose with his sweatshirts? If so, that’s really gross and I…”

Alice froze mid-sentence at the items she’d just uncovered,

There were delicately shaped bottles of pink-colored perfume in the back of Alfred’s cabinet, some of which looked used. Alice looked away as soon as she realized what they were and tried to suppress the words rising in her throat -- but the more she tried, the hotter the feeling of resentment boiled in her chest.

_ So Alfred was trying to keep these a secret from me? Was he planning on replacing me with a different girl at some point? Is that it? _ She balled her hands into fists. 

Why was she so jealous? She didn’t even like guys, and even if all the girls at school were probably straight or buried in the closet, meaning that Alice would probably never find a girlfriend before college, Alfred deserved to be happy with someone he loved. And if that girl wouldn’t be her, that was fine. She would always be Alfred’s best friend… even if that meant that Alfred would reserve nights like yesterday night for another girl.

_ No, it’s not fine. _

Alice could recognize the rumble of Alfred’s sedan pulling into the driveway anywhere. She momentarily contemplated closing the cabinets, opening up her binder of math homework, and pretending that she hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary, but a fire raged in her chest. 

_ No, I’m not fine. _

So when Alfred ran up the stairs with his heavy footsteps with a wide grin on his face, Alice was standing with her arms crossed in the bathroom doorway.

“Hey Alice! Sorry I’m late! Mattie told me you’re up here, and…” Alfred trailed off when he saw Alice. The grin fell from his face.

The words rushed from Alice’s mouth. “I found your perfume.” 

Alfred’s face grew very, very pale.

“Did you think you could hide something like that from me? Did you invite me to your house to break the bad news to me? I thought I meant something to you. But apparently I don't."

"But you do," Alfred said, pleading, eyes wide. “You’re my best friend. And I didn’t want to keep this a secret from you. I just didn’t know how you’d react, and that scared me.”

Tears burned in Alice’s eyes. So he expected, then, that she was a jealous bitch on the inside. “I don't even know why I'm angry. I want you to be happy. You deserve it. But I.. I just ..."

Alfred reached out to put a hand on her shoulder or pull her into an embrace, but at the last moment she flinched away from his touch. 

"Don't touch me," she hissed. 

At first, Alfred looked as if something had broken inside of him, before he schooled his expression into a careful, neutral one. 

“Okay. We don’t have to talk about this again if you don’t want to.”

“I’m leaving.”

Alfred’s mouth twisted into an unreadable expression. “Okay.”

Alice stormed her way to Alfred’s bedroom to snatch her backpack and sling it over her shoulder before she stomped her way down the thirteen carpeted stairs with snot and tears streaming down her face in disgusting, salty trails. 

“Are you okay?” Matthew asked, reaching out in almost the same motion as his brother had used.

What should’ve been an angry “No” came out as a choked sob. Matthew stepped back with his hands up in the air in response, and Alice slammed the front door behind her with a resounding bang.

* * *

  
The next day at school, Alfred arrived with lipstick expertly applied to his lips, his bangs carefully pulled back with a butterfly clip. The furtive whispers began as soon as he pushed open the front doors to the school.

When Alice tried to meet his gaze, he turned away and marched faster down the hallway. 

This continued for the rest of the week. The whispers in the hallways became nastier and louder as time went on.

Every afternoon, Alice headed straight home on the bus without joining Alfred at their usual meeting spot. No new text messages from Alfred appeared on her phone, either, so she naturally assumed he didn’t expect her to show up anyway.

Alice mulled over this as she sat alone in front of the school a few hours after school let out on Friday. She really didn’t understand Alfred anymore. She still couldn’t separate this new Alfred who wore a new shade of mascara every day from the Alfred who’d once given her a plastic football patterned with the American flag and a soaring eagle as a birthday present.

She couldn’t pretend that she didn’t hear the rumors already spreading about Alfred, either. Did he really not realize he was now liable to be targeted for being the next gay kid -- really, the next scapegoat? How could he live with that knowledge and still wear makeup to school every day?

Every time Alice overheard a disparaging remark or crude joke whispered not-so-quietly about “that new faggot”, she grew more and more withdrawn into herself.

Alice didn’t want Alfred to change. She’d always imagined him as a bright light in her life who’d brighten her life in both rain and shine -- someone who was a constant in her life even as she gained friends, lost friends, found new aspirations, turned away from her goals. 

But when Alfred’s old self had chipped away to reveal someone else, Alice had clawed at him in desperate hopes of finding the person he once was and ended up making him bleed.

And now, that blood had solidified into red lipstick. 

Alice shook her head. She wasn’t about to write purple prose in her head when she’d taken on an extra shift tonight. 

* * *

To Alice’s surprise and shock, Alfred was waiting for her outside the tea shop she worked at when she got off her extra shift that night. 

Usually Alfred had football games on Friday nights and weekends, which Alice tried to attend as long as they didn’t fall during her shift. Of course, since he’d quit the football team earlier that week, he wouldn’t have any outstanding obligations to attend games -- but Alice hadn’t really thought about that after their fight a few days before.

And now, here he was, standing half-illuminated by the bright white light of the street lamp next to the shop, his face devoid of makeup for the first time in several days and what looked like a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. 

Even though Alfred had definitely seen her turn off the lights in the tea shop and put the “Closed” sign on the front door, he didn’t approach her, so Alice marched towards him with her arms crossed. 

“What are you doing here?” Alice asked, trying to level her tone so as to not sound accusatory. 

“I’m sorry,” Alfred said, though Alice didn’t really know what he’s apologizing for. “I don’t have anywhere to stay for the night, so I just wanted to ask if I could stay at your place. I didn’t intend on acting like a creep, but I also didn’t want to ask your parents and then make you angry if you got home and saw me sitting in your living room without your permission.” 

Alice’s brain lagged a bit behind Alfred’s rambling before she suddenly realized what he was saying. News articles and forum posts about people getting kicked out of their houses for being gay flashed through her mind -- though, she was pretty sure Alfred wasn’t actually gay. 

“What happened?” she asked. Best to start with simple questions.

Alfred grimaced. He adjusted his hands in his coat pockets. “Fight with Mattie. It escalated into a fight with my parents. You probably know how it goes.”

“Oh.” Alice normally would make a sardonic comment about this situation, maybe act disbelieving, but she felt as if this situation was too serious for that. She didn’t remember the last time Alfred had a fight with his brother or his parents, much less a fight so serious that it would result in him getting thrown out of his house for a night. Even if things were somewhat rocky between them at the moment, she still cared enough about Alfred to want him to be safe.

As much as she wanted to sort things out with Alfred right then and there, tell him everything she should have told him months or years ago, she knew that a deserted parking lot wasn’t the best place to do it. 

“You can come over to my house. I don’t want you to freeze to death out here. Come.” Alice spun her keys around her finger.

“Really?” Alfred looked at her with light in his eyes, and her heart ached when she realized that Alfred was grateful to her for something that any good friend should and would do. “Thank you so much!” 

As Alice kicked up the engine of her mom’s car with Alfred tapping an idle tune against the door as he sat next to her, she glanced over at him and wondered why the harsh light of a parking lot pulled out the most handsome features in Alfred’s face.

* * *

“So you need to stay with us for the night, hon?” Mrs. Kirkland asked, staring deep into Alfred’s eyes as if she were conducting an interrogation. 

“Yeah,” Alfred said, looking away from her eyes with a nervous swallow. 

“And your parents do know of this, correct?”

“Yeah, I texted them earlier to let them know I’m at the Kirklands’ home for the night.”

“And you’ll be a good boy who sleeps in the guest room and doesn’t fuss too much, yes?”

“Y-yes,” Alfred stuttered. His face turns blush red.

“Then you can stay,” Alice’s mom confirmed, leaning up on the tips of her toes to pat Alfred on the head. “There’s leftovers in the fridge if you’re feeling peckish.” 

Alfred turned to Alice with an unsaid question in his eyes.

“You’re now officially adopted as the sixth Kirkland sibling,” Alice drawled. “You’re free to take Alistair’s old room, car, and maybe even his name one of these days.” 

Alfred shuddered. “Oh god, not Alistair. I could bear being any one of your siblings except for him.” 

“Understandable,” Alice snorted. “Well, seeing as you’re already Mum’s little boy, I don’t think I need to tell you to get comfortable here.” 

After that, Alfred practically made himself invisible as he claimed the guest bathroom at the end of the hallway for himself, took a shower, brushed his teeth, and then slipped into Alistair’s old room without a peep. Not wanting to push him too hard for answers this late at night, Alice prepared for bed in her own bathroom and changed into her pyjamas. She was just about to turn off her nightlight and close her eyes when she heard Alfred’s footsteps in the hallway.

The door slowly creaked open, and sure enough Alfred was on the other side dressed in football pyjamas that Alice was pretty sure were two sizes too big. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” Alfred said matter-of-fact-ly. “Wanna watch cat videos together? I brought my laptop with me.”

“Weird request for you to make at,” Alice pressed the home button on her phone where it was charging on the nightstand. “11 PM, but sure.” She sat up against the headboard and patted the spot next to her on the bed. “Come here.”

Alfred pulled open his laptop to reveal a YouTube playlist of short cat videos and cat video compilations. Soon, Alice and Alfred were cooing affectionately at the “little kitties” rolling and tumbling about on the screen.

“God, cats really are the best,” Alfred said after the last cat video had played. “Yeah, I’m a dog person, but can I not appreciate a good fluffy boy when I see one?”

“Of course you can,” Alice said. “After all, you’re not a hundred percent an idiot.”

“Thaaaanks,” Alfred said sarcastically. Alice giggled. 

Alfred turned to look at Alice’s open bedroom window, which happened to be situated right next to the wrap-around covered porch her parents loved so much. “Hey, want to sit outside on the roof? It’s really nice and clear out, maybe we can see some stars together!”

“Sure, just let me grab my jacket first,” Alice said. 

She smiled to herself as she tugged her favorite fleece on over her shoulders. Finally, things felt the way they should be between herself and Alfred. They’d both be better off if they started on a new leaf like this.

The fall air was cool on Alice’s skin, just like it was several nights ago, but this time she had some tissues stuffed in her pocket. By the time she crawled out her window to join Alfred outside, Alfred was already looking quite comfortable where he was leaning between the siding of her house and the rain gutter at his feet.

“The sky looks beautiful tonight,” Alfred said, his breath fogging in the air. He pointed upwards. “Look.”

A light that looked like a star flickered and moved across the sky where Alfred was pointing.

“I’m pretty sure that’s a plane,” Alice said.

Alfred pouted. “Let me dream.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Alice sucked in a breath. 

“I think I should introduce my new self to you,” she said. “There’s some stuff I haven’t told you about before, which I think you deserve to know because you’re my best friend.”

Alfred turned to her, his attention obviously focused on what she was about to say.

“Hi, I’m Alice Florence Kirkland. I have four idiot brothers, none of whom really look like me, two parents who seem to like my brothers and my idiot best friend more than their only daughter, and I like reading books and writing stories in my free time. If I want anything out of life, I would want to drive away to college far away from here when I graduate and also make sure my best friend is happy. I recently realized that I only like girls, so I was a member of GSA until Feliks was beat up.” 

“So, you’re a lesbian?” Alfred confirmed, swinging his legs back and forth in the air. Somehow, Alice hadn’t expected his reaction to be so calm, so practiced.

“Well, yeah. I like girls.” 

“Okay,” Alfred said. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” 

Something about Alfred’s oddly withdrawn reaction raised a question in Alice’s mind. His expression looked too similar to Feliks’s carefully drawn face after he’d left the nurse’s office the day after the incident.

She was about to ask until she saw how forlornly Alfred was staring out at the stars above her roof -- as if he’d finally seen hope for the first time in many years. The faint light of the street lights brushed along his cheekbones and his full lips, bringing his firm features into the light. Not wanting to ruin the moment, Alice instead turned away and looked at the stars until she recognized the Little Dipper and Orion’s belt in the sky.

* * *

When Alice awoke the next morning, she could hear her mother preparing breakfast downstairs. For a moment, she felt as if she were still a little kid and none of her older brothers had left for college yet. If she went downstairs, she’d find Alistair, Morgan, Liam, and Sean scarfing down their shares of scrambled eggs and toast with a healthy helping of marmite. 

Then, she blinked the fog out of her eyes, and she remembered that she was a junior in high school, her brothers were all in university or grad school at this point, and she didn’t remember falling asleep in bed. 

“Ah--!” Alice turned around, that last realization jolting her awake. She let out a sigh when she saw that Alfred had closed the window behind him and that he hadn’t decided to fall asleep in her bed. Lord knew that Alice waking up to her mother shrieking over a boy -- even a boy as honest and upstanding as Alfred -- sleeping with her in her bed was not something she ever wanted to experience.

By the time Alice had shrugged on a blouse and a skirt, brushed her hair, and ran down the stairs to the dining table, Alfred had already scarfed down a plate of scones and was about to start on another one.

“Did you sleep well, Alistair?” Alice asked as she slipped into the chair next to him. 

Alfred jolted with surprise for a moment before seemingly remembering the running joke. 

“Ha ha,” he replied half-heartedly. “Never been better.”

Just then, Alice’s mom emerged from the kitchen with a plate stacked high with fresh scones in her hand. 

“Oh, you’re awake!” Alice’s mom exclaimed. “I was just talking to your friend about how wonderful marmite and fruit jam taste together!” She bounded over and offered the plate of scones to Alfred, but he shook his head.

“Thank you, ma’am, but I’m good. I think Alice needs them more than me.”

“And he’s quite the charmer!” Alice’s mom added with a sigh. Alice blushed.

“Alright, alright,” Alice grumbled. “I get it.”

As soon as her mom had stepped back into the kitchen, presumably to bake another plate of scones for Alfred to take home with him, Alice leaned in close to Alfred with a question on her lips.

“If I recall correctly, don’t you hate marmite?”

“Well, yeah, I do,” Alfred said. “But your mom seemed so insistent about it. The only answers I could give are ‘I love marmite’ and ‘I’d die for marmite right about now’.” 

“That’s what you get when your strong, independent best friend has a strong, independent mum,” Alice said.

“And you definitely don’t need no man, that I can tell,” Alfred replied. Alice laughed. 

For a moment, the only sound was the ring of Alice tapping her butter knife against the ceramic plate as she spread jam across her scones. 

“Do you want to go see a movie today? You don’t have to immediately go home if you don’t want to,” Alice suggested. “Didn’t you say a while back that you wanted to go see Big Giant Droid 2?”

“Big Dino Robot 2,” Alfred corrected. “And yeah, of course! Do you mean right after breakfast or later tonight?” 

“...Maybe tonight.” Alice wound a strand of hair around her finger. “We can spend the day at the mall and see a movie later.” Truth be told, she just wanted to spend more alone time with Alfred. She didn’t let herself think too much about why she blushed at that thought. 

“Sounds great to me!” Alfred said, pumping his fist in the air.

Then, he paused.

“But don’t you think people will say things about you because you’re hanging out with me? Are you okay with that?”

_ So he did know about the nasty rumors spreading about him. _

Alice took a scone and bit it, chewing slowly. “Well, at this point we just have each other,” she said. “If we’re sinking to the bottom of the food chain at our school, we may as well sink together, right?”

She hadn’t expected Alfred to cover his eyes with his sleeve in response. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked, alarmed. “A-are the scones bad?”

“No, definitely not,” Alfred replied with a tight smile, repeating what he said every time Alice baked him scones. “It’s just… I guess I needed to hear that. Thank you.” 

_ What is it with him and strangely sincere gratitude? _Alice wondered as she licked some fruit jam off her fork. 

She shot Alfred a sidelong glance. He was looking at his plate of scones with a strange look of affection spread across his features, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

_ Maybe I’m not the only person who’s changed. _

She then looked away. Something about the sight of Alfred crying felt overwhelmingly private, so she decided not to comment on it.

A few minutes later, Alice heard Alfred’s knife clink against the hollow of his porcelain plate and his chair scrape against the hardwood floor.

“Do you want to get changed?” Alfred asked. 

“Only if you do,” Alice said, shooting Alfred’s sweatshirt and sweats a dirty look. “If I were you, I’d die before anyone caught me wearing that outfit outside.” 

Alfred’s face tightened. Once again, Alice wondered if she'd been too harsh on him. 

"It's a very you kind of outfit," Alice decided to add. "I wouldn't change into it because it isn't a very 'me' kind of outfit." 

"A very 'me' kind of outfit?" Alfred echoed. "I don't think any of my outfits are, uh, your kind of outfits."

Alice pursed her lips. Something about the conversation felt oddly tense, but she couldn't put her finger on why. 

"Just wear whatever makes you feel comfortable," she conceded, trying to pull out her chair as nonchalantly as possible. "It's not like I care." 

She gathered the dishes into her arms and took them to the kitchen to place in the dishwasher, trying to avoid Alfred's gaze as she did so. 

She didn't want to look into those baby blues and see what emotion they held. 

By the time Alice had finished helping her mother clean up, Alfred had already retreated to the guest room, supposedly to prepare for the day. 

Usually, Alfred was a loud person in the morning, or at least he had been during the one class trip they'd taken in fifth grade, according to one of his friends. Alice didn't hear a sound from behind the closed door, however, not even when she lingered next to the door out of curiosity. 

The awkwardness of the sort-of-argument between herself and Alfred quickly faded away when she returned to her room and saw that Alfred had forgotten his laptop on her nightstand. She remembered the cute cat videos they'd watched together and their escapade onto the roof -- and suddenly she found herself imagining Alfred wrapping his arm around her waist, and drawing her close, and looking deep into her soul with his eyes, and then leaning in for a kiss-- 

_ Oh. _ Alice sucked in a breath. She let herself fall back onto her mattress. _ That's new. Maybe I should think about that. _

She closed her eyes and tried remembering the last few _ fantasies _she'd had. 

Though she found herself quivering when she thought about kissing a woman’s lips or wrapping her arms around a soft torso, she also knew that a certain American boy’s smile lived in her dreams like a warm imprint of a sunny day. 

When she thought about Alfred wrapping a blanket around her shoulders or Alfred laughing at a joke she made or Alfred giving her a sincere look of gratitude over something as small as a tube of lipstick, she felt a warm feeling in her chest that she'd previously only felt when reading mushy romance novels. 

_ Maybe I'm bisexual, then. Even if I've never liked any guys besides Alfred, maybe he's just the one decent and attractive guy in this town. _

That wasn’t so hard to believe at this point. 

Even if she’d previously believed that a boyfriend and a best friend had to be separate people, none of that mattered when Alfred shone in her life so brightly.

Sure, redefining her sexuality in the span of a few minutes spent laying on her bed was kind of odd, but then again she’d realized she liked girls after looking at poorly hidden swimsuit magazines, so maybe odd was just her kind of thing when it came to life-changing epiphanies. 

Her next thought, of course, was about whether or not Alfred actually reciprocated her feelings or not -- especially after she'd told him that she was a lesbian just the night before.

_ Don't think about it too much, Alice, _ she told herself. _ Movies are good date places, right? If you're just going with Alfred, it's the perfect opportunity to figure out whether he's really into you! _

_ And if he doesn't respond to your flirting, well, you'll still be friends. _

_ Yes. We'll still be friends. _

Alice shook the monologuing voice out of her head. She'd just spent five minutes ruminating on her apparent crush on her best friend instead of changing into a nice outfit! She couldn't believe herself. Since when was she an airhead? 

She spent another five minutes comparing several different casual shirts before deciding on the one with "God Save The Queen" written across it in bold letters. Couldn't really go wrong with pairing that with a pair of skinny jeans and a leather jacket. 

Once she'd decked herself out in her punk casual outfit, she tossed her phone, her wallet, and a water bottle into her handbag before walking over to the guest room to knock on the door.

When Alfred opened the door a moment later, he was dressed in an old letterman jacket, a crisp white t-shirt, a pair of worn blue jeans, and a pair of sneakers.

Alice quickly noticed, however, that Alfred's outfit looked oddly precise, almost as if he'd copied from an old picture of himself back from when he was in junior varsity.

"You look… normal," Alice noted. 

_ Quite handsome, really, _her mind supplied unhelpfully. 

“Well, I don’t want to draw too much attention when we’re at the mall, so I’m not wearing makeup today.” Alfred shrugged casually, even if the way he was carefully watching Alice didn't feel so casual.

_And you want to draw attention when you’re at school? _Alice immediately thought. _Wait._ _I shouldn’t hide things from Alfred anymore. When did I start dancing around issues without confronting them like the strong, independent woman I said I am? _

“Then why did you wear makeup to school if you think it’d draw too much attention at the mall?” she said aloud. 

To her surprise, Alfred didn't look offended or even withdrawn in response to her blunt question. Instead, he squared his shoulders forward and looked her in the eye. 

"Because I thought I’d lost both you and the football team, so I felt as if I might as well be myself if I had nothing else to lose," he said. The rest of what he said seemed to come out in a rush. "But I thought things don't have to be different from how they used to be for today if you don't want them to be." 

Alice put her hands on Alfred's hands. 

"I'm fine with different," she said. "If we're both going down, we may as well go down together, remember?"

Alfred startled, but he didn't pull away. Alice took that as a good sign. 

"Right," Alfred confirmed, sounding rather uneasy. 

"Right," he then repeated a second later, sounding more confident this time.

Satisfied, Alice let her hands drop to her sides. Alfred hesitantly let his hands drop as well a moment later.

* * *

The girl at the ticket booth gave the two of them a knowing look when Alice reserved seats in the back row for herself and Alfred, and all Alice could think about was the distinct possibility that rumors would start flying around school by the time Monday rolled around. 

The girl looked completely unfamiliar to Alice, so maybe she was from a different high school, but that may have been wishful thinking on Alice's part given that there were at least a few hundred kids at school. 

“So, the movie won’t start for another few hours,” Alice said once she’d stuffed their tickets into her purse. “Anything you want to do? We could go to the arcade, maybe buy some fro-yo, go clothes shopping…” 

Alfred perked up at the mention of the arcade. 

“We haven’t been to Jim’s Box of Games and Stuff since, what, third grade?” he said. “You down to terrorize some kids?” 

Alice arched a brow. “Terrorise as in ‘put on clown makeup and chase kids’ or terrorise as in ‘absolutely wipe the floor with some fetuses’, quote unquote?” 

Alfred snorted. “Dude, I’m pretty sure the first one would get us kicked out of the mall for life. Now, the second one sounds totally legal and at least sort of heroic.” 

“Second one it is. I suppose, then, that whomever has the least game tickets by the end of the day is buying us both popcorn.” 

“Oh, you’re on.”

As it turned out, Alfred was still just as good at arcade games as he was the first time he and Alice had spent a day at Jim’s Box. Soon, Alfred piled fluffy bunny plushies into her arms as he handed a long ream of tickets to the exchange booth clerk, while Alice could only get Alfred a plastic ball in exchange for her measly twenty-some tickets. 

“So, how many fetuses did you terrorise in order to get me this?” Alfred teased, tossing the ball between his hands with a smirk on his face.

Alice spluttered indignantly at that, and yet she suddenly felt warmth rise in her chest when Alfred patted her on the shoulder to tell her he was joking. 

Truth be told, Alice was a bit disappointed that she only had time to buy some fro-yo and two buckets of popcorn before the movie started. As mushy as it sounded, Alice had sort of hoped that she’d have time to take Alfred to the Cheesecake Factory and buy a plate of spaghetti while enjoying his beautiful eyes under the romantic amber lights, just as she’d planned out during the car trip to the mall. 

Then again, seeing Alfred smiling genuinely as he did tricks with the ball she’d won him was a treat in itself. 

“Your movie is in Theater Eleven to your right,” the freckled theater employee intoned as he tore their tickets in half. “Have fun, you two.” 

Alice could hear the dull roar of other movies reverberating through the walls of the theater as she tugged on Alfred’s sleeve and led him forward, her fingers just barely touching his wrist. She glanced back and saw his blue eyes studying her intently, his lips slightly parted with an unreadable expression. 

Unable to bear the intensity of his gaze, she turned back around and focused intently on pushing the theater door open and discreetly pulling Alfred into the back row.

The lights of peoples’ phone screens faded away as the opening credits started to play. Personally, Alice didn’t even remember what this movie was called, but Alfred sat forward in his seat excitedly when the title card played, so she was pretty sure it was a good choice for a sort-of-movie-date. 

Now that she was ostensibly alone with Alfred in a dark theater and a measly armrest between them, she started to ponder just how she would communicate her feelings to him and see if he reciprocated. 

While before today she wouldn’t have thought much of spending time in such, well, intimate quarters with Alfred, she could feel her heart pounding in her ears as she noted where Alfred’s hands were -- one on his knee, the other conveniently resting on the armrest. 

There was some sort of arm game one was supposed to play on movie dates, right? At least, Alice remembered reading about it in a book a few years back. She wasn't entirely sure. It wasn’t as if she went on movie dates every day with other people. 

She danced her fingers next to Alfred's to the tune of "The Itsy Bitsy Spider". 

He didn't move.

She tentatively slid her hand onto his forearm.

Still no movement.

She tried brushing her fingers against the back of his hand. 

He turned his hand over and clasped it around hers. 

_ Oh my god oh my god oh my god. _

The movie wasn’t even ten minutes in at this point and yet they were already holding hands. Alice was probably in a dream.

She pinched her elbow. 

_ Nope, not a dream. _

Of course, she had a plan of attack laid out already, even if it was going a lot better than she’d expected. As dense as Alfred could sometimes, he’d be denser than a block of steel if he didn’t understand her intentions by the end of the night. 

A few minutes later, when the first explosion of the movie rocked the theater, Alice laid her head against Alfred’s shoulder with a sigh. 

“Of course this movie substitutes style for substance,” she murmured disdainfully next to his ear. “Typical.”

She could hear Alfred take in a deep breath, but he didn’t draw away or stiffen up. In fact, his shoulder seemed quite relaxed. 

Two good signs, then. 

“You know, Alfred,” she said, going for something a little riskier now. “I think I really like you.”

_ Please understand what I’m trying to say. Please understand what I’m trying to say. _

“I like you too, Alice,” Alfred said breathily, and for a moment Alice felt as if she was flying above the clouds.

Then, she grounded herself with a reminder that maybe Alfred didn’t mean it _ that _ way. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t talking about _ like _liking her. 

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Alfred suddenly said, though he didn’t move at all. “Wanna come with?” 

“Of course,” Alice said, trying her best not to let her utter excitement turn her voice into a squeal. 

She decidedly ignored the questioning stares they received as she and Alfred crept down the stairs to the nearest exit hand-in-hand. They paused for a moment next to the exit behind a wall where nobody could see them from outside or inside the theater. 

_ It’s now or never, Alice _.

She lifted herself up on her toes and kissed Alfred.

Alfred’s lips were soft against her own, slightly warm from his body heat. Though her dating record seemed to imply otherwise, she’d actually never had a kiss before, much less initiated one like this. So she hung there for a moment with her lips awkwardly jammed against his before withdrawing.

With a puff of breath, Alice lowered herself to her feet again and gave Alfred an unmistakable look.

“You’d better understand what I meant by that, Mister Jones.”

Alfred’s eyes widened. He looked down at their entwined hands, and then up to Alice’s gaze. 

The question he asked was something Alice had anticipated. “Wait, aren’t you a lesbian?”

“Well, yeah, I did say that yesterday,” Alice said. “I wasn’t misleading you. I thought I was a lesbian -- that is, until today I thought about how much I wanted to kiss you. Really, I don’t think I need to be any clearer about how I feel about you.” 

Alice had expected Alfred to laugh and call her something endearing, maybe sweep her into his arms for another kiss. Looking back on it later, she’d realize that she’d placed unrealistic expectations on him as if he was a train on a set track and not an actual person.

But a girl with a newfound crush does not make for a rational thinker. 

Alfred’s face grew very pale. He tugged his hand away from Alice’s. 

“I don’t think you know who I am,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. 

“What?” Alice said, suddenly feeling cold without Alfred’s fingers wrapped around her hand. 

“I think you fell in love with the ‘guy’ me. But I’m not a man.” Alfred took a deep breath. “I’m a woman.” 

Alice grew very stiff. Her hands started to shake. 

“You must be joking, right?” she said. “Come on, Alfred. This isn’t very funny.” 

She looked up, hoping to see Alfred smirking at her like _ ha, you fell for it, _as out-of-character as that was for the ever-sincere guy she knew. But the expression of abject resignation on his face only confirmed her fears. 

All she could manage in response was, “But, why?”.

“Alice, you don’t understand.” Alfred’s voice was weak, faltering mid-sentence. “I couldn’t live with myself if I had to hide who I am from you. I don’t want to choose between living in my own skin and living the rest of my life with you.”

If Alice had heard those last few words in any other situation, she would’ve felt immense warmth rising in her chest. But as exciting as the prospect of someday maybe even _ marrying _Alfred was, at the moment they were standing together in a movie theater and Alice was very confused.

“Then why did you dress like a boy today and last night,” she asked. “if you’ve decided you’re a girl?”

“I was lonely,” he said, his voice so small that Alice had to strain to hear it. “Alright? I thought to myself, ‘If she doesn’t like me because I’m a girl, then fine. I don’t want to hide anymore.’ But I don’t have anyone else. Mattie doesn’t understand, my parents don’t either. Maybe if I hid myself from you, we could at least be friends again and I could pretend everything’s normal. But then you told me you liked girls, and I had some hope that maybe things could work out… and then things had to happen like this.”

“I’m sorry,” Alice said. She tried not to meet Alfred’s eyes. “I don’t know what to think. I like you, and I like women… but I don’t think I can give you an answer right now. This is just too much.” 

“That’s fine,” Alfred said, but he didn’t sound fine. In fact, he sounded distraught, his voice hollow of the joy and warmth it usually held. “I’ll let you think about what I just said, I guess. Do you want to go home now?” 

“Sure. Thank you.” 

The stuffed rabbits Alfred had won Alice at the arcade bounced on her lap as she kept her hands firmly on the wheel, the evening rain sloshing across the windshield in drifts. Alice glanced at Alfred as she switched on her turn signal and saw his hands resting on his shoulders, almost as if he were giving himself a hug. She glanced at the traces of blue nail polish on his otherwise masculine hands and wondered how she hadn’t put two and two together earlier.

“Do you need an umbrella?” Alfred asked once she’d pulled up in front of his house. “I have one in my house if you want it.”

“I’m fine,” she replied. “It’s a short walk from my curb to the front door. Well, I suppose I’ll see you later.”

“See you,” Alfred said, expression unnaturally neutral, and then he turned around and trudged up the path to his front door.

A few minutes later, Alice arrived home feeling as if her mom’s car was quite empty without Alfred taking up space within it.

“How was your day with Alfred, sweetie?” Alice’s mother asked from within the kitchen as Alice began trudging up the stairs. “Did things go well?”

“Things were okay, I guess,” Alice replied, and then she closed her bedroom door behind her.

She flopped unceremoniously onto her bed, surrounded herself with bunny plushies, and immediately booted up her battered laptop. 

* * *

Unfortunately, this time the articles Alice could find online on the topic were full of confusing or conflicting information. 

So “Alfred” did fit the definition of a trans woman, but s/he also seemed to be pretty masculine aside from his/her interest in makeup, so some websites said that “Alfred” was just going through a natural phase in his life and that encouraging him would only make him more confused. But then, other websites said that “Alfred” should be respected as a woman no matter what, and so Alice was supposed to use feminine pronouns for her, but she wasn’t really sure how to reconcile that with her years of knowing Alfred as a boy. 

If “Alfred” was anyone else, Alice would have ditched him/her instead of thinking about this so hard. There were lots of fish in the sea, right? 

But this was her childhood best friend she was talking about, and if something bothered him/her, Alice knew she would move mountains and part the Red Sea like Moses to make him/her happy. 

But what that would mean in this case, she wasn’t entirely sure.

She checked the time in the corner of her computer screen. _ 12:00 AM _. 

_ Maybe I should sleep on this. I still don’t feel like I understand anything. _

* * *

Alice rose from bed with tears drying on her cheeks. She reached over to her nightstand and daubed her face with a tissue, trying to remember what she’d dreamt about, to no avail. 

She glanced over at her phone. _ 7:45 AM _. Her usual Sunday shift wouldn’t start until the afternoon, so she had some time to think about what “Alfred” said to her and decide what to do from there.

However, that plan was predicated on whether or not Alice was able to skip church.

Truth be told, Alice hadn’t really ever known what faith was supposed to feel like. She’d sat in church in her Sunday best since she could walk and never felt roused by the pastor’s passionate preaching or songs of the Bible. She’d always felt that the differences between Protestants and Catholics were kind of silly, especially given that her family members all seemed to worship Jesus in different ways, and she’d found no reason to believe that God, if there was one, really hated sin but loved sinners after she’d seen what had happened to Feliks.

Of course, given that her parents were still devout followers of Jesus, she usually quietly attended church on Sundays. But today she felt that sorting out her complex feelings about “Alfred” were more important than any life-saving gospel ever could be. 

So she wrapped a thick blanket around herself, placed a hot water bottle on her stomach, and hobbled down the stairs in order to make her best attempt to get out of church. 

“I feel ill,” Alice said when she found her mother baking cookies in the kitchen. “I don’t think I can go to church today.”

As flimsy as the excuse sounded, her mother’s face still softened when she heard it.

“Did you not wear a jacket yesterday?” she asked with concern. When Alice nodded noncommittally, her mother patted her head as if Alice wasn’t already several inches taller than her. “Then you can stay at home today -- I’m sure the Lord wouldn’t want you to spread your germs to the congregation.”

Moments like this made Alice wonder if her mother was really as devoutly religious as she said she was -- though, in this case Alice wasn’t really of the mind to question it. 

“Be sure to keep yourself warm, drink water, and eat something while your father and I are gone,” her mother continued. “We’ll buy you some cold medicine on the way back.” 

“Alright, alright,” Alice said. 

“And don’t you dare answer any knocks at the door, young lady,” her mother said as she grabbed her purse and began walking towards the front door where Alice’s father was waiting in his tightly fitted suit. 

“I get it, mum,” Alice mumbled, rolling her eyes. Still, she accepted her mother’s warm embrace and waved her parents goodbye as they pulled her mother’s car away from the curb.

Though Alice usually didn’t eat much, she didn’t exactly resist her cravings during the rare instances where they occurred. So she pulled the freezer open and peeled open a box of popsicles and took two wrapped popsicles between her fingers.

The first popsicle was vanilla-flavored and rather uninteresting as a result. Alice finished it with a few quick bites and read the adage printed on the stick. _ Treat others how you want to be treated. _

Alice peeled the plastic wrapping off of the next popsicle. This popsicle was crusted with a thin layer of ice flakes which she then licked off with her tongue. This time, she took her time savoring the rich chocolate flavor of the cream.

Despite herself, she found her thoughts wandering to “Alfred” again. If everyone else was the vanilla popsicle, “Alfred” was the chocolate popsicle with ice flakes on top. Even if… _ she _ was different, that didn’t make _ her _less of a person. 

Instead, there was more to discover underneath, and maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

Before she knew it, Alice was out the door with a purse full of makeup in hand.

* * *

As Alice didn’t have a car of her own, she ended up forking over a little bit of her money to take the public bus from the stop down the street from her house to the stop at the public library that was around half a mile from where Alfred lived. 

The time she spent in transit, however, seemed to fade away as soon as she knocked on the door and “Alfred” answered the door.

“Alfred” looked nothing like what _she’d_ looked like the day before. Her hair was tied back with a butterfly clip and her lips were a full lipstick red, similar to her usual weekday look, and her outfit consisted of a light blue hoodie and what looked like womens’ jeans secured with a belt. 

“Where’s Mattie?” Alice asked, quickly noticing the absence of anyone in the living room.

“He’s with my parents at church,” “Alfred” said. “They told me to make myself look more ‘presentable’, and when I didn’t, they left me at home.”

“Oh. That really sucks,” Alice said, and she meant it. “Um, Alfre-” 

“Please, call me Alyssa.” Alyssa sounded less sympathetic than she had last night. The bite in _ her _ tone made Alice flinch.

“Alyssa, maybe we should go upstairs to have a talk,” Alice suggested. “Just a girl-to-girl heart-to-heart.” 

“Alright,” Alyssa agreed. “I’ll listen.” 

As soon as Alice had closed Alyssa’s bedroom door behind them, she sat down on Alyssa’s sporty bedspread and patted the spot next to her as an invitation, which Alyssa obliged. Although the “Alfred” she once knew had always burst with energy, which he tended to express through fidgeting or talking about everything and nothing, Alyssa seemed oddly reticent, sitting completely still as if Alice were a skittish animal and one wrong move would spell disaster.

  
Alice inhaled. 

“So I still don’t really think I understand exactly what you’re going through. Maybe I thought I did, but I suppose I didn’t. And this is all changing too fast for me, but I don’t want any of that to come between us. So I’ll say this: Even if things aren’t always smooth sailing between us, even if sometimes I’ll hurt you without meaning to, I still really like you. And I’ll do what’s necessary to make you feel comfortable, even if that means setting aside what I used to think about you. If we're both going down, we may as well go down together.”

“Alright,” Alyssa replied. “Thank you.”

Alice exhaled. So that went better than she’d hoped. Alyssa seemed a little more relaxed now, adjusting herself where she was seated on the bedspread with the sound of fabric rubbing against fabric. 

She then looked up at Alyssa’s face. Though Alyssa’s makeup was actually well-applied -- after all, she’d practiced on Alice for over a year --, it was also obvious that she was tentative in her application of paint to a new canvas.

And Alice wanted to show her just how beautiful she could be.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” Alice asked, unzipping her purse. 

“Sure,” Alyssa said, her eyes carefully watching Alice’s every move. 

Alice pulled her makeup set out of the purse with deft fingers and Alyssa looked almost excited for a moment before pulling her expression into a neutral one -- almost as if she’d been let down before. The thought that someone else could’ve hurt her to the point of making her hide her bright smile made Alice’s blood boil -- and then she remembered that that “someone else” could very well be herself. 

She was going to make that up to Alyssa however she could. 

“Sit still,” she murmured softly, and then she seated herself across Alyssa’s lap in order to get a good angle to work with.

Foundation, concealer, finishing powder, blush -- Alice gently worked her brush into Alyssa’s skin, bringing out the well-defined cheekbones which shined in the right light, the expressive eyes Alice was still jealous of and yet loved, and the full, soft lips Alice wanted to kiss again someday. Eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara -- Alyssa’s eyelashes were already naturally thick and only needed a little bit of detail work in order to make her baby blue eyes pop. Alice could feel Alyssa’s warm breath puffing against her neck as she worked. 

Alice sat back once she was sure the job was done and almost let her jaw drop when she saw how radiant Alyssa looked now that the sun had shifted to shine on her face through a window. 

“You look gorgeous,” Alice breathed. “Do you want to come look?” 

Alyssa made an affirming noise and followed Alice into the adjacent bathroom. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but then she looked up at the mirror and froze in place.

“How do you feel?” Alice asked as she turned around to face Alyssa. 

Alyssa’s eyes were wet and gleaming. “You didn’t have to do this for me,” she whispered. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s okay,” Alice said soothingly, pulling Alyssa into her arms. She rubbed circles into Alyssa’s back, noting how firm her muscles were beneath the straps of what seemed to be a sports bra. “I love you.”

That’s when Alyssa burst into tears, letting out a keen unlike anything Alice had ever heard before. Alice only hugged her tighter as tears and snot wet her shirt.

“It’s okay,” Alice whispered, carding her fingers through the hair at Alyssa’s nape. “We’re okay. Everything’s okay.” 

“Alice…” Alyssa sobbed, choking back her tears as words poured out of her mouth. “I don’t really believe in God anymore, not after what I realized about myself. I don’t know if he could really love someone like me, or even if he would. But I always prayed to God that you’d love me back, that I wouldn’t have to be someone I’m not just so that I could be with you…”

Alice silenced her with a swift kiss on the lips. When they parted, Alyssa’s eyes were red and overflowing. Alice brushed away the tears with gentle fingers, taking care not to smear the carefully applied eyeshadow or mascara around Alyssa’s eyes in the process.

“Have you always loved me?” Alyssa asked, voice small -- soft, vulnerable, even.

“I do, Alyssa,” Alice murmured, ghosting her fingers over her girlfriend’s skin. “And I always have.”

**Author's Note:**

> There were a few scenes I ended up cutting out of this fanfiction in order to finish this fic before the deadline. However, as I feel that this fic is complete as it is, any additional content will likely come in the form of oneshots or drabbles, not edits to the original fic. 
> 
> While this fic was sort of catharsis for some of my own feelings and experiences as a queer person, I've also based a few of the events in this fic off of things which other people told me about their own experiences. As a result, this fic isn't meant to be a specific analogue to any one experience or person -- rather, I hope that Alice's voice tells her own story, as flawed and immature as her actions may be at times.
> 
> I also wrote this fic with the intention that the reader should be able to at least somewhat understand Alyssa's (Amelia in the collection's version) journey throughout, even if Alice doesn't really understand Alyssa's experiences for one reason or another. The road ahead for the two of them may not be a well-paved one, nor will it be easy for either of them, but to everyone with a treasured trans person in their life -- or to everyone who is that trans person -- you matter, no matter what happens to you or what people tell you.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this fic!


End file.
